


please break my heart

by celestialfics



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfics/pseuds/celestialfics
Summary: “Cetirizine—your fever’s gripped me again.”Somehow, Tetsurou is unrelentingly flirty and hopeless all at once.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noahfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfics/gifts).



> so i usually write tsukkiyama... but my friend noah (who usually writes kuroken) and i decided to do a little pairing exchange! here's his wonderful [tsukkiyama fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8721127) ! :')  
> this was fun and different than usual, and i really hope that you and noah both enjoy my little venture into kuroken territory!  
> noah's prompt for me was "one-sided pining" so i hope i've done that some justice;; 
> 
> title from the song "breezeblocks" by alt-j !!

Someone had fallen asleep on Tetsurou’s shoulder.

This in itself would be fine, if the someone were Kenma or Yaku or Yamamoto—Tetsurou would even sacrifice his shoulder for Lev, unless he started drooling—but this someone was not someone Tetsurou knew. A stranger had started using him as a pillow on the train, and though he was weirdly flattered, it was still uncomfortable.

Kenma sat on his other side of him, preoccupied with his PSP and paying no attention to Tetsurou’s dilemma, though Tetsurou had no doubt in his mind that Kenma knew what was happening. And still, he made no move to help.

“Kenma,” Tetsurou whispered through his clenched teeth, to get the other’s attention.

Kenma clicked away at his device’s buttons, seemingly ignoring Tetsurou’s plea, while Tetsurou knew, _knew_ , that he’d heard it.

“ _Kenma_ ,” he repeated, and the person on his shoulder started to slip. On impulse, one of Tetsurou’s arms flung up and he held the person’s shoulder in his hand, to keep them steady.

“I can’t help you,” Kenma finally responded, sparing only a glance in Tetsurou’s direction before looking back to his game. “Push them off?” he offered.

Tetsurou eyed the head on his shoulder. Sure, he could’ve just nudged them until they fell the other way, onto the person on the other side of them—except there was no one on the other side of them. They would just flop onto the seat and hit their head.

“I can’t.”

“Hm,” Kenma hummed, uninterested.

Tetsurou sighed through his nose, looking again at the nest of black hair on his shoulder. He could… poke them, and they’d wake up, probably—or he could let go of their shoulder, and let them fall off; then they’d wake up, surely. That seemed rude, though, so Tetsurou opted out.

The next few minutes were… not exactly unpleasant, but not quite pleasant, either, and still Tetsurou endured. But their stop was rapidly approaching, so much so that Kenma had tucked his PSP away into his bag. Tetsurou had to act.

With the utmost care, Tetsurou pushed his sleepy stranger off of him, so that they hunched over their own lap. It looked uncomfortable, but they still didn’t wake. (They must’ve had a really tough day, Tetsurou thought with a frown.) Tetsurou let out a sigh of relief as the train slowed to a stop and he and Kenma stepped off. He watched the sleeping stranger through the window as the train took off again, only tearing his eyes away after the train had gotten far enough away.

“They’ll never know,” Tetsurou finally spoke after turning around to face Kenma. Kenma only stared at him. “They’ll never know that we just bonded.”

“Guess not,” Kenma responded, casting his gaze to his shoes and watching as he scraped one on the pavement beneath them.

“We’re bonded for life, I think, them and I,” Tetsurou continued, though he began to walk towards his and Kenma’s homes.

“Seems plausible,” Kenma played along, though just barely.

Tetsurou then cocked his head towards his friend. “You don’t fall asleep on me, Kenma. Am I not inviting enough?” He let out a brief chuckle, but curiously awaited Kenma’s response.

“I don’t sleep on the train,” Kenma deadpanned, hooking his fingers on the straps of his backpack, his posture still slightly hunched as he walked a half-step behind Tetsurou.

“I know. But in other places.” Tetsurou contemplated, scratching at his cheek with his index finger, “We could have a life bond, like that stranger and I have.” _Not that we don't already_ , he almost added on. 

“Why don’t you fall asleep on me, then,” Kenma suggested, his head slinking slightly back into his hoodie.

“Is that an offer? Are you offering to be my _pillow_ , Kenma?” Tetsurou arched an eyebrow, looking expectantly down at Kenma, who didn’t meet his gaze. Tetsurou had to be imagining the slight flush of Kenma’s cheeks.

“Am I?”

Tetsurou crossed his arms over his chest. “If you are, I’ll have to take you up on it sometime.” He paused, only for a moment, “You’d probably make a good pillow.”

“I might be too boney.” The blush was gone, then, though Tetsurou was still almost positive he’d imagined it. Kenma wouldn’t… _blush_ around Tetsurou—because of Tetsurou. That just didn’t happen.

“I’ll be the judge,” Tetsurou eventually said, accompanied by a slight smile cast down in Kenma’s direction.

* * *

 

It was the next Saturday when an opportunity finally revealed itself, though by that time Kenma had probably forgotten about his offer. Tetsurou, however, had held onto it. _Carpe diem_ , or something.

Kenma sat on his bed, propped against the wall beside his bed with his PSP in his lap, his legs crossed in front of him. Tetsurou admired just how cozy he looked for a second, truly in his element—engulfed in a game and a large sweater, a blanket pulled up over his lap, and most importantly, not surrounded by people. Tetsurou was happy for him.

But still, it was time to seize the day. And so, Tetsurou stood from where he’d prior sat at Kenma’s desk and crawled onto the bed, leaning on the wall besides Kenma.

“Is that fun?” he asked, leaning over to look at the screen of Kenma’s device.

“Mm,” Kenma shrugged, “It’s pretty easy.”

“Hmm,” Tetsurou hummed in response, his head falling onto Kenma’s shoulder. Kenma abruptly stopped hitting the keys on the PSP and following this, his character died.

Kenma turned his head after a fleeting moment of frozen silence, looking down at Tetsurou’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Um,” he said.

“Sorry?” Tetsurou glanced up to meet Kenma’s questioning gaze. “You offered—remember?”

“Oh,” Kenma breathed, looking back down at his game. “Yeah.”

“Unless—”

“It’s fine.” He began hitting buttons again.

Tetsurou smiled against the fabric of Kenma’s sweater, watching Kenma play his game until his eyelids drooped shut. He drifted off to the quiet tapping of buttons and Kenma’s occasional sigh when he’d failed to pass a level. He wasn’t sure of the last time he’d felt so… in place and comfortable. (He could’ve gotten used to this, but he pushed that wishful thought away. _Dangerous thinking_.)

* * *

 

“Kuro,” Kenma said softly, nudging Tetsurou’s cheek with his pointer finger to wake him. “Wake up. I need to change.”

Tetsurou wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep—not long, since Kenma hadn’t moved at all, besides stretching his legs out in front of him rather than having them crossed. But still, he was asleep long enough to have red imprints on his face from Kenma’s sweater, and long enough to be just pleasantly bleary.

“Mm?” he replied, lifting his head from Kenma’s shoulder and rubbing at one of his eyes.

“I’m going to put on pajamas,” Kenma said, scooting away from Tetsurou before hopping off of his bed.

“Okay,” responded Tetsurou before he let out a yawn. He leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut again. “You’re a good pillow,” he stated, his eyes still closed as Kenma changed. “Not too boney. That’s my official ruling.”

It was quiet for a few moments, until Kenma replied, “Don’t tell Lev.”

Tetsurou snorted softly. “What? Your hospitality doesn’t extend to Lev?”

“My hospitality doesn’t extend to anyone,” Kenma clarified, “Just especially not Lev.”

Tetsurou opened his eyes for a moment to see Kenma’s back facing him as he slipped a t-shirt over his head. “Really?” Tetsurou’s lips pulled into a slight grin. “But your hospitality extended to me.”

“Yeah.” Kenma made no move to explain, just turned around and crawled back onto the bed, though he didn’t sit next to Tetsurou. Instead, he pulled the covers over himself and set his head down on his pillow.

 _Cute, Kenma,_ Tetsurou thought, watching as Kenma pulled the blanket up to his chin. Instead of voicing so, Tetsurou asked, “Are you going to make me get the futon?”

“No.”

“Mm, good.”

They shared the bed often, so Tetsurou was sure Kenma would take no notice to Tetsurou as he shifted to lie next to him. Tetsurou spent too long, probably, staring at the back of Kenma’s head (wishing he could sling his arm around Kenma’s waist) before he finally lulled back to sleep.

* * *

 

Kenma was cute. This was not a rare thought for Tetsurou, nor anything he denied. Kenma _was_ cute. It was more of a fact than an opinion, really. He didn’t know anyone that would disagree.

The problem with this only came when Tetsurou had urges to act _because_ of this thought. He was positive, however, that his cute reclusive friend wouldn’t particularly _enjoy_ being peppered with kisses by one of the only people he’d ever really let into his life by choice, and so Tetsurou refrained. But it really was difficult to not even mention Kenma’s cuteness sometimes, namely _right now_.

Kenma was concentrating, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at his math assignment. He pressed the eraser end of his pencil against his cheek with one hand, and he leaned on his other hand, pushing his hair up and behind his ear to keep it out of his view. He kept huffing at the problems before him when he couldn’t figure them out, and though Tetsurou knew that he’d appreciate help, he waited for Kenma to ask. (He was cute when he asked, naturally, and sometimes Tetsurou was a little bit selfish.)

“Kuro,” Kenma finally spoke, lifting his gaze from his frustrating assignment and to his friend. “I don’t get this one.” He moved his pencil from where it poked at his cheek to point at the problem.

Tetsurou promptly leaned over Kenma’s desk, setting one of his hands on the back of Kenma’s chair and the other on the desk, beside the assignment.

“Number sixteen?” he asked, for clarification. Kenma nodded. “Okay, so…”

Tetsurou leaned even closer to Kenma as he explained, his one hand still resting on the back of Kenma’s chair but the other hand taking Kenma’s pencil and working through the problem in front of him.

“What would you do without me, right?” Tetsurou teased as Kenma moved onto the next problem, following Tetsurou’s steps from the prior one.

“Right,” Kenma said, though he wasn’t really paying attention.

Tetsurou then backed away from Kenma again, flopping on his back onto Kenma’s bed. He enjoyed being in Kenma’s house, in his room, in his bed. The entire house hadn’t changed much since they were kids, unlike the Kuroo house, which had been reorganized and reorganized countless times since he was eleven. (His dad got bored of living in the same space after so long, so every few months Tetsurou found himself dragging furniture from room to room.) But the Kozume house remained constant, and the nostalgia stirred by the house was nothing if not pleasant.

Besides just that, Kenma’s room itself was a pocket of memories. Countless childhood nights Tetsurou had spent staring up at Kenma’s ceiling in the dark, telling Kenma all the made up stories his young brain could muster just to try and get the other boy to laugh—which was an early sign of Tetsurou’s eventual pining fate, he painfully realized in hindsight.

Tetsurou stared up again at the ceiling, though it was illuminated by the lamp on Kenma’s desk. He decided that he thought too much, and he closed his eyes.

Tuned in on the sound of Kenma’s pencil scratching against the paper, Tetsurou opened his eyes again when the sound stopped. “Stuck?” he questioned.

“No, I’m finished,” Kenma replied, stuffing his math materials into his backpack before leaving the bag on the top of his desk. He proceeded to stand from the desk chair and approach the bed, staring down at Tetsurou, who sprawled star-fish across its entirety.

Tetsurou stared back at Kenma. “You want me to move?”

“It’s my bed.”

“Hm, I guess so.” Tetsurou gave in after not much, moving one of his arms and patting the empty spot next to him.

Kenma complied, crawling onto the bed and lying on his back next to Tetsurou. Tetsurou laid his hand that had beckoned Kenma on his own stomach, and together they stared up at the blank ceiling.

“You should get some of those glow-in-the-dark stars,” Tetsurou suggested after a few moments of relative silence.

Kenma’s phone buzzed from where it sat on his desk before he had a chance to respond. For a fleeting moment, Tetsurou thought that maybe Kenma was going to ignore his phone, stay lying on the bed with him. He cut this thought off before it could go too far—inevitably ending up an daydream—but the moment passed as moments do, and Kenma sat up, reaching for his phone.

His eyes lightened a touch as he read the message, and Tetsurou could assume it was one of two things: one, a new game had been released and Kenma had updates sent to him, or two, the message was from Karasuno’s Chibi-chan.

 _Chibi-chan_ , Tetsurou confirmed when Kenma began to type a message in response. After Kenma had sat back down on the edge of his bed and set his phone down in his lap, Tetsurou sat up, propping his back against the wall.

“How’s Chibi-chan?” he inquired, his head cocking slightly.

Kenma shrugged. “Loud. Lots of exclamation points.”

Tetsurou felt slightly accomplished at the fact he’d been right.

“Hmm, is he excited about something?” Tetsurou tapped his pointer finger against his cheek as he asked.

“No, he always uses too many exclamation points. He just wanted to tell me that Tsukishima pissed him off.” Kenma’s phone vibrated again as he spoke, so he picked it back up.

“Ah, _Tsukki_ , my precious disciple. It sounds like he’s doing well.” Tetsurou watched as Kenma read the next message, a smile spreading across his cheeks as he did so. (He wondered for a moment what he himself could do to make Kenma smile like that, but was quickly answered.)

“Tsukishima told Shouyou that if he ate seven meat buns in a row that he could grow an inch. Shouyou’s really mad because he actually tried it.”

Tetsurou let out a snort. (All he had to do was be an absolute dingbat.)

“How many did he manage to eat?” he asked.

“Five.”

“Wow, that’s admirable.” Tetsurou laughed. Chibi-chan’s gullibility in itself was almost admirable.

They were quiet for a little while, then, Kenma’s phone buzzing intermittently. But Tetsurou couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but bring it up…

“Hey, Kenma,” he started, “Do you need any… help with Chibi-chan?” _Wink wink, nudge nudge_. It pained Tetsurou to say it so nonchalantly, but he still needed to know.

“What do you mean,” Kenma deadpanned it rather than asked, not turning to look back at his friend.

“Like, you know…” Tetsurou leaned forward until he was in Kenma’s range of sight and made a heart with his hands.

Kenma involuntarily flushed. “No. It’s not like that, Kuro.”

“No?” (He wasn’t relieved. He was _not_ , really.)

“No.” Kenma shook his head as more assurance. “No, and even if it was, Shouyou has a crush on someone else.”

One of Tetsurou’s eyebrows shot up. “Let me guess,” he said, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “It’s the setter, right? The intense one?”

“Mhm.” Kenma hummed, but didn’t give Tetsurou another chance to speak before he clarified: “I like Shouyou, but not like that.”

“I believe you, Kenma,” Tetsurou replied, and refrained from teasing him. He almost wanted to say that he _didn’t know it was a sore subject_ , but that didn’t seem quite right, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Good,” Kenma said, falling onto his back and setting his phone on his chest. His hair splayed on the blanket beneath him.

Tetsurou looked away and swallowed thickly.

Kenma’s voice was small when he spoke again, so small that Tetsurou wasn’t sure he’d actually even heard it. “What about you?” he’d said.

“Hmm?” Tetsurou hummed, looking back down at Kenma, who seemed to sink further into the bed beneath him.

“Is there anyone that you…” he trailed, grabbing hold of one of the strings of his hoodie and rolling the end between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Oh,” Tetsurou breathed, and lied. “Ah, no.”

Kenma didn’t react, so there was nothing for Tetsurou to read into. In the moment, he didn’t know if that was good or bad.

* * *

 

That next night Tetsurou stayed late after practice, wishing everyone off with the flick of a wrist, telling them he just needed some extra serving practice and not to worry, that he’d clean everything up when he was done.

Kenma had left without Tetsurou as soon as practice had officially finished (he had been acting oddly more withdrawn the entire day), and it had taken about another fifteen minutes after that until Tetsurou was really alone. Inuoka actually loitered the most; eventually, though, he left to join whoever was left in the clubroom.

So it was just Tetsurou and his thoughts. That in itself was borderline dangerous, especially when a cart of volleyballs and pent up feelings for his best friend were added into the mix.

Despite this, Tetsurou’s serves started out light; he practiced his aim with solid overhand shots and attempted to focus only on the task of hitting the empty water bottles he’d propped up. He didn’t particularly feel like jumping so soon after team practice, and it was an understatement to say it was difficult to narrow his multifaceted mind into a one-track one.

Eventually he gave up, let his mind wander to the only thing it ever really wanted to wander to, and that was to Kenma. He flubbed the very next serve, watching as it flew into the net and fell pitifully to the floor, bouncing once, twice, before rolling for a few seconds until it finally, finally came to a stop.

Tetsurou blinked and swallowed thickly before walking over and retrieving the ball; he felt like it deserved a redo. As he faced the net with the ball held in his hands, though, he thought that Kenma shouldn’t be making him _feel_ like this, shouldn’t be the cause of a flubbed serve. Kenma had always been… constant. He had been there, quiet as he was, for as long as Tetsurou cared to think about. But only recently had he really started making Tetsurou feel twisted, like he’d tied a knot in Tetsurou’s stomach that he had no intention to untie.

This, of course, wasn’t Kenma’s fault. He hadn’t _literally_ tied a knot in Tetsurou’s stomach. Tetsurou bounced the volleyball in front of him, catching it in one hand. Well, he supposed, it _kind of_ was Kenma’s fault, just because Kenma was Kenma and that’s why Tetsurou liked him so much, but in the end these feelings were all thanks to Tetsurou himself. He sighed, looking at the volleyball in his hand and impulsively deciding to jump serve.

In retrospect, it wasn’t quite a great idea for Tetsurou to jump serve while frustrated, but he learned that the hard way as his serve soared across the gym and hit the far wall. He let out a pitiful kind of laugh and sunk to his knees, sitting on the floor of the gym.

Why did _Kenma_ of all people have to make him feel so complicated? This would’ve been so much easier if Tetsurou just liked that girl who had confessed to him last month. (But Kenma was surely softer and prettier than she was, and Kenma was surely more interesting, and Tetsurou really couldn’t help but feeling how he did towards his longtime friend. _Sorry, Yuko-san_.)

Tetsurou pressed his palms flat on the floor next to him, spreading out his fingers. He let out a deep sigh, staring at the volleyball he’d prior launched across the gym. It still rolled slowly towards the net.

The worst part of all of this, Tetsurou decided, was that he didn’t know if Kenma _knew_ how Tetsurou felt or not. On one hand, if he didn’t, then there was a sliver of hope, but… Kenma was observant. He was not clueless, and so he had probably figured it out by now. (If he hadn’t… then he hadn’t been paying much attention to Tetsurou in the first place.) And if Kenma had figured it out, he hadn’t said anything about it. That might’ve meant he didn’t want to bring it up to Tetsurou in hopes that Tetsurou’s feelings would eventually fade away.

But maybe Tetsurou was thinking too much into it. Maybe he was being selfish, expecting Kenma to do all the work (which he wouldn’t, because he was Kenma). Maybe he needed to take a leap of faith, you know, _carpe diem_ , but—he couldn’t. Not with Kenma. Not when… so much was at stake.

 _God_ , Tetsurou thought, burying his face in his hands, _what a mess_.

* * *

 

Tetsurou didn’t see Kenma as he boarded the train that following morning—which was… unusual, but not unheard of. He wrote it off as Kenma getting a ride to school from his mom and forgetting to tell him, maybe, or sleeping in late by accident. As he got off at his stop, however, Kenma shattered all Tetsurou’s theories and got off the next train car in front of him.

“Kenma!” he exclaimed, waving to get his friend’s attention.

Kenma turned around at the call, but upon sight of Tetsurou, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Tetsurou blinked and lowered his hand.

“Why did you…” Tetsurou trailed once he’d caught up to Kenma, though he didn’t know exactly how to end the question. _…ride that train car? …not wait for me? …avoid me?_

“I didn’t see you,” Kenma answered the incomplete question. “I thought that you tired yourself out too much with the extra practice and slept late.”

“Oh,” Tetsurou replied, pursing his lips. “Well, I didn’t.”

“Hm,” Kenma hummed, his attention directed at the phone in his hands. He was playing some kind of strategy game.

The air felt tense, and Tetsurou wondered what’d happened, what he’d done to make the mood this way. Surely he’d done something, because Kenma wasn’t one to make unnecessary trouble.

If he were smart, he would’ve asked Kenma what was wrong, and he knew this. But still, he made no move to ask. He continued to endure the tense mood, hoping for Kenma to confront him—which he knew would never, ever happen. Tetsurou thought that maybe he was too self aware.

The walk to the clubroom wasn’t quite unusual; they didn’t usually talk a whole lot on the way there. Once they arrived, Yamamoto and the first years were all inside. Lev was sure to greet Kenma quickly and loudly, which Kenma rather hated, Tetsurou was sure, but he didn’t say so like he usually would. Maybe he was just having a bad day…? But yesterday had been similar to this, as well.

Morning practice proceeded normally, for anyone that wasn’t Tetsurou. Namely because he was the only one who noticed how Kenma continued to act just a touch more withdrawn, just a touch more secluded, as if he’d rewound his social progress with the team back a few months. Tetsurou couldn’t help the frown that plastered his face. He’d _have_ to talk to Kenma about it at lunch.

Yaku, however, noticed Tetsurou’s frown before Tetsurou had even realized he was making one.

“Hey, Kuroo,” he greeted, a volleyball in hands, “You’re up for receiving practice.” Yaku promptly shoved the volleyball against Tetsurou’s chest. “But first, what’s the face for?”

Tetsurou blinked down at Yaku. “Oh,” he said, slightly shocked by the fact he’d been called out. “It’s ‘cause of… Kenma, actually.”

One of Yaku’s eyebrows shot up. “Kenma?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou affirmed. “Don’t you think he’s acting… off?”

Yaku turned and looked at Kenma, watching as he set to Yamamoto and grimaced as Yamamoto yelled after the successful following spike. Yaku cocked his head. “Looks normal to me?”

“Hm,” Tetsurou grunted, not wanting to cause unnecessary concern. “Nevermind it, then.”

Yaku’s gaze lingered on Tetsurou as he walked away with the ball held against his hip.

* * *

 

Talking at lunch didn’t happen. Tetsurou didn’t know what to ask or how, so he pushed the confrontation off to the train ride home.

But even now, as he sat next to Kenma on the train, he didn’t know how to approach the subject. If he asked Kenma what was wrong, he knew he’d get a simple ‘ _nothing_ ,’ and that would be the end of it. Even if he asked something more in depth, he’d be shut down immediately. It was hard to be tactful around someone like Kenma, Tetsurou knew from years of experience.

And so Tetsurou was surprised when Kenma spoke up first.

“Can you help me beat this level?” he said, offering his device to Tetsurou.

Tetsurou hesitated, staring down at the offered PSP.

“I’ve been stuck on it for a long time,” he continued, which Tetsurou figured meant a maximum of three days.

“I can try,” Tetsurou offered with a shrug, taking the device from Kenma’s hands and holding it in his own.

Tetsurou wouldn’t say he was surprised at the difficulty of the game, but he was. It was easy to _tell_ Kenma what to do when he wasn’t actually playing, but when his own fingers rested over the buttons, Tetsurou wasn’t so hot.

After he died for the third time, he looked skeptically over to Kenma. “I can’t beat it,” he said, glancing back and forth between Kenma and the game.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to,” Kenma admitted, outstretching his hand for the device to be returned.

“No faith in me, huh…” Tetsurou trailed teasingly, glad the tense atmosphere of the day had somewhat lifted. Perhaps it really had just been a rough couple of days?

Kenma didn’t respond, but Tetsurou didn’t mind. He was just happy for one normal conversation amidst the tenseness of the day, really. And with this slight lift of the veil, Tetsurou decided to take a leap (be it a small one).

“Were you okay today?” he asked, not making eye contact with Kenma when Kenma looked up at him.

“I was fine,” he deadpanned, his gaze directing back towards his game immediately. Tetsurou resisted the urge to sigh—it was an answer he’d expected.

And yet he still decided to prod further: “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Kuro.”

Kenma caught a break as the train pulled up to their station.

They walked together for awhile, until they reached Kenma’s house. It was then that Kenma finally spoke up again: “I’m seriously fine. Don’t worry about it. Okay, Kuro?”

Kenma’s porch light shone from behind where he stood, giving him a pleasant halo, but his face wasn’t illuminated. His shadow fell on Tetsurou’s body, and Tetsurou stood there before him, his mouth hanging slightly open as he decided what to say. He hadn’t decided on anything before Kenma started to turn away.

“Okay,” Tetsurou finally said, causing Kenma to pause. “but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Kenma blinked, as if contemplating what to say. “I can’t,” he said, and Tetsurou’s stomach to fell to his feet. “but thanks anyway, Kuro. See you tomorrow?”

Tetsurou pursed his lips and nodded, staring at Kenma as he continued to turn around and retreat into his house.

Kenma’s words rung in Tetsurou’s ears. _‘I can’t.’_ By saying so, Kenma had confirmed that something _was_ in fact wrong, but he didn’t… trust Tetsurou enough to talk to him about it.

Tetsurou wasn’t sure of the last time he felt so awful.

* * *

 

Kenma had a math test on Friday, so Thursday night Tetsurou found himself tutoring Kenma like he’d always done. They sat together at the table, Kenma’s math materials spread out on the tabletop in front of them. They were only a handful of centimeters apart, and though usually Tetsurou would be compelled to close the gap, this time around he was surprised he’d even managed to end up this close.

Tetsurou felt heavy, like several quilts were piled on top of him, but he was still cold. Since Kenma had admitted something was wrong, he hadn’t acknowledged it again. He acted mostly normal, if not more withdrawn. It was driving Tetsurou up the wall, but he couldn’t say so, mostly because he didn’t _want_ to know what Kenma would say if he did. He imagined it’d hurt ten times more than just ‘ _I can’t_.’

“You divide on both sides, here,” Tetsurou said eventually, breaking the silence upon noticing that Kenma had paused in writing. He pointed down to just beside where Kenma’s pencil pressed into the paper.

“Mm,” Kenma acknowledged, following Tetsurou’s instructions, but nothing more. No glances in Tetsurou’s direction, no subtle teasing, no smiles…

Tetsurou swallowed thickly, wondering if Kenma even actually wanted him here. It seemed not, and so he left as soon as Kenma finished the review assignment. His feet dragged on the pavement as he walked the short distance to his own house; he shoved his hands in his pockets as deep as they could go and let out a long breath into the slightly chilled nighttime air.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he opened his front door, slipping off his shoes and proceeding to his room after a quick call of “I’m home!”

After flopping back first onto his bed, Tetsurou stared blankly up at the ceiling. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he left it to sit for a few minutes as he sunk deeper into the mattress, his arms outstretched on either side of him. He just wanted to get his mind off of Kenma for once, which was a seemingly impossible task, especially of late. (Tetsurou knew that deliberately _not_ thinking about something just made the problem worse, but he didn’t have any other tactic to follow.)

Alas, all was for naught when Tetsurou finally dug his phone out of his pocket to see a message from Kenma himself.

“ _thanks for helping me today, kuro._ ”

Tetsurou blinked at the screen, slightly awed that Kenma had even bothered. Another text came as he held the phone in his hands, not giving him a moment to think of how to respond.

“ _i know i didn’t thank you earlier. sorry_ ”

Tetsurou imagined Kenma pursing his lips as he typed out the message and hit send.

“ _It’s okay_.” he typed back, chewing at his bottom lip, contemplating the second part of the message. “ _You know I don’t mind helping you with anything_.” It was nothing if not a hint back towards what Kenma wouldn’t tell him.

“ _give me another day_ ” the next message from Kenma said. Tetsurou’s heart caught in his throat. “ _then we can talk. okay?_ ”

Tetsurou couldn’t muster anything more than “ _Okay_.”

* * *

 

Kenma was quiet. He was always quiet, really, but Tetsurou expected a little more since Kenma had invited him over with the premise of _talking_.

The past few days had been exceedingly rough, each day worse than the one before. Just yesterday, Kenma hadn’t said one word to Tetsurou throughout the entirety of the day. Somehow, he’d found a way to avoid Tetsurou even in the clubroom and the train home—which was… disheartening, if Tetsurou were being honest. But still, here he sat in Kenma’s room, waiting for him to speak up about what was bothering him so much.

“I can’t read your mind,” Tetsurou spoke up after sitting on the edge of Kenma’s bed and watching him play his PSP for too long. His stomach was in a knot, and he really couldn’t let Kenma push this off any longer.

He’d narrowed down the possible outcomes to four.

 _One_ , Tetsurou’s feelings would be brought to light, and Kenma would reject them. This seemed the most likely to Tetsurou when he considered the events of the prior few days.

 _Two_ , Tetsurou’s feelings would be brought to light, and Kenma would reciprocate. (He wouldn’t let himself get his hopes up, so this point was mentally scratched out.)

 _Three_ , Kenma and Tetsurou would come out of this no longer friends. _Extremely unlikely_ , he thought, since he wouldn’t let Kenma get rid of him so easily, not after they’d been together for so long and through so much.

 _Four_ , Kenma’s problem had nothing to do with Tetsurou and Tetsurou had been selfish and self-centered this whole time.

“I know,” Kenma finally answered. He tapped a few more buttons before he set the console down.

“Surely you’ve thought about what you want to say,” Tetsurou said, looking down at his hands that sat intertwined in his lap.

“No,” Kenma denied, diverting his gaze. “It’s… not easy.”

Tetsurou opened his mouth to respond, but no words came to mind. Kenma swallowed thickly, wringing the hem of his shirt in his hands. Tetsurou cleared his throat.

“Kenma, I’m sure whatever it is, it won’t change how I think of you,” he said eventually, when the weight of the air in the room had become too heavy.

“It will,” Kenma insisted, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“It won’t.”

“It will.”

“ _Kenma_.”

Kenma sighed. Tetsurou sighed.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Tetsurou stated, raising an eyebrow.

“I _know_ that,” Kenma stressed, “but I still…” he trailed.

“Is there anything I can—”

Kenma cut him off. “I like you, Kuro,” he blurted. His golden eyes were wide, as if he were shocked at himself for saying it.

Tetsurou’s eyebrows furrowed. “And?” He sure _hoped_ Kenma liked him, after they’d been friends for so long.

Kenma blinked at him, making no move to elaborate. _Oh_.

They were both quiet for a few moments; all Tetsurou could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Oh,” he said, his jaw hanging slightly open.

Kenma stared at him, his fists balling around the hem of his shirt. His knuckles were starting to turn white.

“Kenma…” Tetsurou trailed, and though his face still donned a slight frown, his gaze softened as he looked at Kenma.

“Don’t just stare at me,” Kenma commanded, his face flushing as he diverted his gaze to _anything_ that wasn’t Tetsurou.

Tetsurou’s frown slowly turned to a smile, though Kenma still wasn’t looking. “Hey, Kenma?” he called Kenma’s attention, “I’m an idiot.”

Kenma’s eyes scanned over Tetsurou’s face; his eyebrows furrowed as he was at a loss for words.

“And _you’re_ an idiot,” Tetsurou continued, turning his body and crawling over on the bed so he was closer to Kenma. “A beautiful idiot, I swear.”

Kenma’s lips were as soft as they looked, Tetsurou was pleased to discover. Kenma was still withdrawn, though, shy as if they hadn’t known each other for so many years. Tetsurou supposed that was reasonable; this was new territory, after all. New, _wonderful_ territory.

Tetsurou’s hand caressed Kenma’s jaw as he pulled away, a bright smile lighting his face.

“I thought you’d figured me out,” Tetsurou stated, his eyes lighting up upon sight of the blush on Kenma’s cheeks.

“In hindsight, it’s embarrassing to admit that I didn’t,” Kenma admitted, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“I thought you’d figured me out and didn’t know how to tell me to fuck off,” Tetsurou teased, though it had been a legitimate thought process of his.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kenma replied, his gaze flickering back down to Tetsurou’s lips. They were still so close; Tetsurou could feel Kenma’s breath on his face.

“You wouldn’t, huh…”

Kenma darted forward to place another kiss on Tetsurou’s lips. And after the first peck, he went in for another, and another. Tetsurou stopped keeping track of the sheer number of kisses in the bombardment, cherishing the blooming feeling in his chest and the softness of the hair at the nape of Kenma’s neck between his fingers, enveloping the sensations and tucking them away so he’d remember this forever.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kenma repeated, his face flushed and his voice breathy.

“I believe you,” Tetsurou replied, smiling and equally as breathy.

And as they went to sleep that night, all warm in Kenma’s bed, Tetsurou could finally drape his arm around Kenma like he’d always wanted to. He could finally nuzzle his chin against the top of Kenma’s head as the smaller tucked himself into Tetsurou’s chest, holding Tetsurou’s one hand in two of his own.

While it hadn’t been a necessarily easy journey to get to this point, the end destination was well worth it, Tetsurou thought as Kenma softly traced the lines on Tetsurou’s palm, pressing a kiss to each of his fingertips. _Well worth it_.  


End file.
